


Sherlock Visits

by KitKat76



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitKat76/pseuds/KitKat76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the famous "Lazarus" incident, Sherlock needs to start finding Moriarty's contacts. And for that, he needs help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Visits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vivian_Laufeyson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian_Laufeyson/gifts).



> For guessing the password in my last Sherlock one shot! Congratulations! Here is your Prize!!!

The incessant knocking at your door forces you from your work. When you answer the door, you are caught off guard by who is standing there.

“I need to stay her for a little while.” Sherlock Holmes says as he lets himself in.

“Wha-?” You sound as you close the door. “Sherlock. I haven’t seen you since Uni and you visit now because you need a place to stay?”

Sherlock stops in his tracks to examine your flat.

“You haven’t seen the news then. I’m surprised you didn’t get wind of my… Performance while blogging about cats.” Sherlock huffs, giving your laptop a disgusted look.

“I like cats.” You grumble as you join his side. “And what performance? Sherlock, I don’t understand. What is going on?”

Sherlock yawns, removes his coat and hands it to you.

“Wake me up in a few hours. I’ll need to use your laptop later.” Sherlock calls as he heads off to your bedroom.

You sigh as you place the black coat onto a rack. Honestly, was it too much for the famous Sherlock Holmes to give a simple “how do you do”? You go back to your laptop, blog abandoned and open up a search engine. You look for news about Sherlock, and learn of his death. Hell, there’s a video of the deed! But, that’s impossible. How did he fake his death? Wait a minute, this was Sherlock Holmes. If anyone could fake a death it was him. And that “better than you” brother of his probably had a hand in it as well. You had known the Holmes brothers since you started to attend university. You had a few classes with Sherlock, and were the only student who didn’t ridicule him for his “ability”. You soon met Mycroft after that, who offered to pay you to keep tabs and his little brother. You didn’t take the job. Later, you told Sherlock about the deed before class, and he called you an idiot for not accepting. Neither of you talked to each other a lot. But Sherlock would sit with you sometimes in the library while you studied, or would walk with you to class. It wasn’t a sort of companionable relationship. You and he were just… There.

After a few hours, and a several cups of tea, you go and wake your new flatmate.

“Hey.” You start to shake the taller man’s shoulders, “You told me to wake you up, so you better wake up!”

            Sherlock groans from under the covers before rising.

“Is your laptop free of cats now?” Sherlock asks as he stretches.

His bare back is to you, muscles moving under the skin. You roll your eyes at his comment and pick his shirt up off the floor.

“Don’t just leave your clothes lying about.” You chide as you put the article on a chair, “And yes.”

Sherlock watches you as you move about the room.

“You’ve seen what I’ve done.” Sherlock states.

            You pause in tidying your room, before looking straight into his eyes.

“Yes. I did.” You confirm.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I did it?” Sherlock asks, moving towards the door.

“Not really.” You grimace as you follow him, “The less I know, the better off I am.”

            Sherlock frowns. You know he’s just dying to impart his genius on you, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. A little revenge for barging in. Sherlock sits in front of your laptop and begins to search away.

“If my battery dies, plug in the charger will you?” You ask, filling a mug of tea.

Sherlock doesn’t respond, just types away at the keyboard. You sigh, placing the mug of tea by the former consulting detective, and go back to your room for a nap.

“I’ll be staying for a week.” Sherlock announces at breakfast.

“Really? And what will you be doing in that time?” You ask.

“What I’ve always done.” Sherlock replies, “In that time I’ll need you to get me a few things.”

You raise a brow, and he hands you a list. You look at it, and instantly blanch at some of the items.

“I don’t have enough money to get you a ticket to Morocco!” You exclaim.

“Fine. Then how about Spain?” Sherlock offers, “And yes, you will be compensated by my brother. He’ll come looking for you after the transaction, so leave that task for last.”

You frown at him. You didn’t have to do any of this. You could call Scotland Yard and have them take Sherlock out of here. But you won’t. You know that Sherlock, no matter how insane or unexplainable, never does anything without reason. And to fake his own death had to have a very big reason.

Sherlock is quiet the rest of the week. You buy all the things on the list, leaving the ticket for last. You made sure Sherlock ate something while he stayed with you. He ridiculed your cooking skills, but ate small portions of whatever you gave him.

The end of the week arrived, and you finally bought the plane ticket. It was time to say good bye. Sherlock was putting on a disguise with everything you bought him.

“Try and not get killed while you’re running around. I wouldn’t want you to be actually dead.” You say.

“Funny. I assume most people would want me dead.” Sherlock says, placing his prosthetic nose on.

            He had made the thing in the kitchen the other day.

“Yes, well, not me. Even if I do like to blog about cats.” You grin.

            Sherlock turns to you, giving you a tiny smile. It stuns you, because that was a real smile. Not the ones he would give to teachers or anyone trying to ask him about his day, nor the cruel victory smile he had when he revealed a person’s dirty secrets. This was a true smile.

            You and Sherlock stand in front of the door, his disguise on and plane ticket in hand.

“I suppose I should… Thank you.” Sherlock says.

“You’re welcome.” You reply, before giving a lopsided grin, “I hope your brother is prepared to compensate me.”

“Don’t worry. Mycroft will have everything in order.” Sherlock gives a sly grin.

            And with that, he was gone. A few days later, you find a large sum of money transferred to your account. You wonder if Sherlock is alright.

            Three weeks later, a news report comes out about the great detective’s return from the dead, and you know that it was only the beginning.


End file.
